{photo source} She winked at herself in the mirror, pleased with her attempts at styling her hair for tonight’s party. Her smile faltered just a little as her reflected self winked back, a split second later than expected. There is was again, the feeling something wasn’t right, that the self in the mirror wasn’t an exact reflection. Uneasy, she raised her hand up near

{image source} Birds chirping, leaves stirring in the breeze, the gentle perfume of newly bloomed flowers, warm sun on skin. The signs of spring surrounded Alice, as she rested on the park bench. Children played behind her, in front of her, mothers with babies in prams helped their toddlers feed bread to the ducks. The chaotic rhythm of a midweek morning occasionally interrupted by the

{image source} The lights dimmed, the curtains parted. From somewhere in the back of the hall, a spotlight carved a beam through the murky semi dark, and lit up the costumed performers on the stage. Paul’s breath caught. With her back to him, and everyone else, stood Lauren, stunning in a flowing white gown, surrounded by black suited men. The hint of an idea that

{image source} The train slows as it nears the platform, then rocks to a stop, as the grind of wheels against the track gives way to the scuffle of feet finding the floor and bags being collected. Gripping the pole tightly, staring at the floor, she is oblivious to the crowds surging past her in waves, as the carriage empties, then fills. A bag knocks

Four hours, three minutes. Not that long since he’d held her close, his arms tight around her as if he wished he never had to let her go. His voice, soft and low in her ear, whispering words of love and hope and the future. Of the magic of the past three days they’d share, suspended between realities, with their world shrunk down to just

{image source – used under Creative Commons license via Flickr} The boards flickered, the list of flights changing every couple of minutes, as they stood side by side and watched, waiting for the right numbers to come up. Next to each other, together, but not touching, the memories of the last three days and the ghosts of the last six years both binding them and

{image via Lillie McFerrin} Roused by the smell of coffee, Lauren slowly rolled over in the now empty bed, and decided the promise of coffee was enough temptation to finally abandon sleep. Paul sat out on the deck, his back to her, seemingly lost in thought as he stared out at the landscape that, on first inspection, looked empty, but gradually revealed it’s secret beauty.

He pushed the door open, and dumped his keys on the hall table, his bag hitting the floor next to his feet seconds later. Leaving the lights off, Paul let the gentle glow of dusk easing through the windows guide his way to the lounge room, where he collapsed in his favourite chair, and took a moment to let the weekend just gone wash

Photo source His fingers drifted over the tables, the warm oak surfaces coated in dust, the ghosts of a thousand moments felt and a hundred lives lived heavy in the air. The silence was the most disconcerting thing. Not the furniture, once polished with reverence to a deep shine. Not the specks of dust swirling through the shards of sunlight daring to intrude through the

To set the scene, we are currently three years post-breakup. Lauren has called Paul from Amsterdam, and left a message. Paul has worked up the courage to call her back. And a bit after that, we find ourselves here… ~~~ “It’s just, I don’t know, it all seems like a distant memory. But then I do something or hear something or see something, and it

Welcome!

Hi! I'm Rachel. I love making things & experimenting with new techinques & mediums. I am addicted to pretty paper, and make & sell letterpress stationery. Being creative is my sanity break from the rush of life as a wife, and a mother of four. I do a lot of my creating without shoes. This is the story of where my bare feet & creative heart take me.

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